One year ago today, I received a message that changed my view of writing and unlocked the vise-grip of doubt that had killed my creativity. I promised myself I’d blog about it.
Instead, I threw myself full-steam into yet another rewrite of my novel, this time changing it to present tense. I made big changes, joined a writing group, a site for writing, a critique group, went to meetings, went to conferences and got major feedback. I promised myself I’d blog about it.
And just like in journals I’ve kept, I’ve never caught up writing about all the changes, events, and people that have impacted my life.
In a way, that’s a good thing. It means I’m busy living life instead of just writing about it.
This January, even more changes happened, and I find myself once again in the vise-grip of doubt.
The question I have to pose to myself is one I always thought a no-brainer: Will I keep going if no one but me ever sees what I do?